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by thosedarndursleys
Summary: Molly can’t wait for the holiday season to start.


**A/N** : Thank you for taking a moment to read my story! This was written for Season 5, Round 13 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I, as keeper for the Caerphilly Catapults, was tasked with writing about a King (the chess piece) and someone that needs defending (Molly and, if you squint, Charlie, who hasn't been born or announced quite yet.) For judging purposes, the final word count for this story is 912.

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Arthur Weasley stared at the worn chessboard in front of him. He was only three moves into the game, and he could already tell that Fabian would trounce him. Arthur studied the wooden King at the back of the board and scoffed. Thank Merlin he wasn't responsible for protecting a real king. He had a hard enough time keeping track of Bill.

The toddler was currently digging ribbons out of a large, red bin, squealing whenever he found a particularly sparkly one.

"Molly, love," Arthur called as Fabian moved his Pawn. "Halloween was yesterday. Don't you think it's a bit early to hang the mistletoe?"

Molly took a moment to fix the berries to the top of the threshold. She had a Father Christmas hat propped atop her curls, and her wand was periodically spitting out red and green sparks.

"Well, Arthur, since you refuse to pick out a tree, I have to make due in other ways." There was no bitterness in Molly's voice, just a matter of factness that swam amongst Christmas tunes and the "ho ho ho!"s of Gideon in the next room.

"Love, any tree that we get now will be bare by the time the holiday rolls around," Arthur laughed.

"Not with the right evergreen mulch!"

"Well, we were both pants at Herbology, so let's just wait a few more weeks, yeah? Damn it, Fab!"

Fabian chuckled as he pulled Arthur's Bishop from the board.

"Keep an eye on your pieces and off of your wife, old man."

Arthur rolled his eyes and returned to the game only for Fabian to turn in his seat.

"But really, sis—don't you think this is a bit much?"

He opened his mouth to continue but was promptly was cut off by a shorter, stockier ginger poking his head into the room.

"Oh, shut it, Fabian. You didn't think it was a bit much when Molly made eggnog this morning," Gideon laughed. He nodded his head to his sister and creased his brow. "You've got my allegiance, Mols," he said solemnly, "Don't let those Scrooges over there keep you from making your biscuits tonight. I've been waiting all year for those!"

Molly chuckled and saluted to the younger boy as he disappeared into the kitchen once more.

Fabian huffed, having already turned back to his game. "Really, Molly. The pumpkins aren't even dead yet and you've already moved on to gingerbread!"

"Bread! Bread!" Bill immediately perked up from his place on the rug at the mention of his new favorite treat. He stood to his feet uneasily and tottered over to Fabian. "Untle Fay, bread?"

Fabian chuckled and pulled the small boy to his arms as he stood from his armchair. "Sure, mate. Let's go see if Uncle Gideon left any gingerbread for us."

The two squeezed past Molly on their way to the kitchen, leaving Arthur to look toward his wife fondly.

"So," Arthur began, rising from his seat and crossing the room. "Does that stuff actually work?" He tilted his head toward the mistletoe and leaned his shoulder against the threshold.

Molly, on the other hand, busied herself with the candles atop a nearby bookshelf, tossing an "I don't know what you mean," over her shoulder.

"Oh," said Arthur, "I think you do."

He reached a hand out to grasp her shoulder and turned her gently toward him. Arthur led Molly to the doorway and kissed her slowly, allowing himself a small smile when he tasted peppermint on her lips.

After a brief silence, Arthur began to feel bad for teasing his wife. Molly was a tough one and quite used to teasing, but he couldn't help but worry sometimes, especially since her pregnancy with Bill. After all, even being forewarned about pregnancy hormones, Arthur still managed to upset his wife on a regular basis leading up to Bill's birth. It had been over a year since then, and he still tried to tread carefully with the teasing.

"Thank you for doing all of this decorating, love," Arthur whispered after a moment. He straightened Molly's hat before pulling back slightly and meeting her gaze. "It's already beautiful around here."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Molly laughed, pushing her husband away. "You're just happy I've given up on the tree for now." She moved to claim Fabian's seat beside the chessboard, studying the game until Arthur moved to join her. She pulled a peppermint from a nearby tin and plopped it in her mouth. The room was quiet for the next few minutes as the couple sat in a comfortable silence. Bill's giggle was audible from the kitchen, but the house was otherwise still.

Molly rubbed absently at her belly for a moment before taking in a breath. "Arthur, I've been meaning to tell you—"

A large crash came from the kitchen next, followed by a quiet "shit" from one of the brothers' mouths. Bill began to cry not a moment later, and both Arthur and Molly took a minute to groan loudly.

"It's your turn to handle it," Molly offered above the crying, tucking her feet beneath her and pulling a throw blanket around her shoulders.

"It can't be my turn," Arthur countered cheekily. "I've got an important game in front of me if you haven't noticed."

Molly leaned forward for a moment. She bit her lip briefly before moving Fabian's Rook directly into the path of Arthur's King.

"Check mate," she offered with a raised brow. "It's your turn."


End file.
